This Fear
by angelgazing
Summary: ...It wants to claim that it’s not love, because I’m not petrified of it... A sort of companion piece to 'Moments'


This Fear

I have this fear that is impossible to explain. I don't know when it started, maybe when I watched a woman without a heart slice my mother's throat, or maybe it was after that. Maybe it was with the part of my childhood that I remember clearly. Maybe it started the first time that Helena and Stavros mocked me, taunted me, and called me names. It may have even begun the first moment that she locked me inside of my room for more than twenty-four hours. And maybe it just grew and grew over the years. Either way, I developed this fear, and I have no idea how to get rid of it. 

And for years and years it was fine. Having this fear kept me safe, guarded, alone. Alone isn't as bad as some people make it out to be. Alone is actually quite wonderful. Alone is safe, alone is easy. Alone doesn't come with dimples and an urge to control me. So the fear was good. This fear kept my heart nice and intact for a very good number of years. 

Then this fear made me do something unimaginably stupid to break not only _my _heart, but my would-be-husband's as well. 

But it was ok, after that, even though for five minutes or so I wasn't sure that it would ever be ok again. Ned never really got over it or forgave me for my runaway bride move, but this fear had taught me long ago that I didn't need to have another person's forgiveness to survive. Lord knows I survived after Stefan, the one constant in my life for as long as I can remember, disowned me and disappeared. Why should Ned being bitter and hateful keep me from my life – my work? 

The answer? It shouldn't. And it didn't. Ned wasn't any different from Stefan. I lived just fine without him. Maybe that's what hurt him worst of all. That, while I was genuinely upset and heartbroken over our failed wedding and relationship, I wasn't going to spend the rest of my days on my knees begging his forgiveness. I wasn't even willing to give up one of his least favorite people as a client. In fact, I wasn't even willing to give up a meeting with said client to try yet again. 

That, in case you are wondering, had nothing to do with this fear. That was just me standing up for myself. I've never been one to handle being told what to do very well at all. I'll be the first to admit that I have control issues. I will not deny that I _need_ to be in control of my own life. So I stood up for myself, because Ned didn't want me to have my own life at all. Ned didn't want Alexis. He just wanted the other half of Ned and Alexis to show up, smile at the right times, and be at his beck and call. He certainly didn't want me to be my own person in any way. If it wasn't about him then I was being selfish and stubborn. 

Come to think of it, maybe I could just chalk running away and leaving him at the alter to self-preservation. It was, after all, the very definition of the word. Look it up sometime, the definition is _"protection of oneself from harm or destruction."_ You can't tell me that a marriage to Ned wouldn't have harmed or destroyed me. And possibly him as well. 

Ned always had this imagine of me in his mind that was perfect. The only problem happens to be that – and I'll be the first to admit this – I am not perfect. There. See? It really isn't that difficult to confess to. I'm not perfect. I'm a human, and I do have flaws. Ned could never accept those flaws, he couldn't accept any part of my personality that wasn't pre-approved. Ned wanted nothing short of perfection, and a good little wife that would do as he said, when he said, with no real opinion of my own. It never would have worked with Ned. I only hope that he knew that as well before I ran out of our wedding. 

It wasn't hard to see, really. Maybe Ned and I were just too close to the situation to see it before hand, but it was right there, clear as day. Sonny knew that I was terrified of the commitment that came with getting married to Ned. I think he may have even known _before_ I passed out right in front of him. My groom never got it though, he never listened to what I wasn't saying. If a man is going to be with me my entire life, it helps if he listens to what I don't say. 

I've noticed that while I spend large amounts of time speaking, I rarely say anything. When I'm in court, then you should listen to me. In fact, you should hang on my every word. I learned very quickly how to speak to a jury to make them lean forward in interest and fear of missing something. It's really sad that I can't have someone in my life that listens to me the same way that judge, jury, and courtroom reporters do. 

Or rather, it would be sad if it wasn't the way I wanted it. And it is. Really. I like alone. Alone is safe. Have I mentioned that already? I think I may have. You see, the thing is, I have this fear… 

My marriage to Jax worked out rather well, I think. He is by far my favorite ex. Ned may know that, but I don't care. My marriage to Jax was easy. The only emotional tie I had to Jax was friendship, and while I do love him, I've never had the slightest inkling of an attraction to him. We were good friends, we had a rhythm down after a while, and things just flowed extremely well with us. 

Our marriage was good. I could still be married to Jax and fine with it. I mean, if I ever started to feel stifled then I would just send him off on a date with Chloe. That type of thing never would have worked during a marriage to Ned. Or during a real marriage to anyone, I suppose. If I felt stifled, then he'd crowd me even more, pull me even closer. Marriage to Ned would have been everything I'd dreaded while most little girls were planning their wedding to Prince Charming. 

Jax is the closest I've ever gotten to Prince Charming. And he's the closest I ever _want_ to be to Prince Charming. I didn't fall head over heels in love with him. Maybe I have my own problems with perfection. I can't stand it. And that was my ex-husband, perfect. It would have been easier if I fell in love with Jax. 

Then again, attraction ruins everything else. It only stands to reason that it would have ruined the rhythm that we had as well. So I suppose it's just as well. He would have driven me crazy after another few years of the white knight business anyway. 

I don't like perfection, I don't find it attractive in the slightest. And I'm not very fond of men that think woman always need to be rescued either. I'm more than capable of saving myself, and the idea of having someone walking to behind me to catch me if I stumble is enough to give me nightmares. Even on the rare occasions that I _do_ need a hand getting up, that's all that I want. Someone to give me a hand, help me up, then push me back on my way after I brush myself off. 

Ned wanted to help me up, brush me off, and carry me to bed and serve me French toast while I stay curled up away from the big, bad world outside of the bedroom. He never understood the importance of, at the very least, _appearing_ as if nothing could touch me. He couldn't have understood it if he tried. 

He couldn't have understood _me_ if he tried. 

I know, I know it's a lot to ask for someone to understand me. Obviously there are often occasions in which I don't understand myself. It's probably unfair to ask that anyone try and understand what I, myself, cannot. But I feel that if I'm going to spend the rest of my life with someone then at the very least they should know me well enough to know when to back off. It's not like I'm completely against pushing, there's just a time for it. And Ned never could find the right time. Another strike against him. 

If I thought about it long enough, I could think of an entire list of reasons why Ned and I never would have lasted. I could write down excuses until my hand ached, but it wouldn't change things. I did what I thought was right, even if I didn't know it at the time, and Ned still cannot deal with it. I dealt with it, not easily, but I dealt with it. And that was just another thing that my would-be-husband will never understand about me. 

But I have more important things to contemplate right now. Like the man sitting on the other end of my sofa watching me pretend to read the contract in my lap. 

Sonny Corinthos is a complicated man. Probably almost as complicated a man as I am a woman. But they way we are, just the two of us sitting here pretending not to be thinking about each other, it's easy. Surprisingly, amazingly, uncomplicatedly easy. 

It's terrifying. 

The thing is, I have this fear. I don't know of what, exactly. Just that it's here, deep inside of me and hiding underneath my skin waiting and ready to sneak up and attack me at any moment. Sonny has been known to enflame this fear, and he's been known to be the one man to ease it. 

Sometimes I really wish I could understand me as well as I expected Ned to be able to. Sonny understands, of course, but that scares me more than anything else. I think I understand him too, but he always manages to surprise me. Just when I think I have him figured out, he springs one of those _moments_, as Kristina calls them, on me. 

Please remember that I really don't mind those. I simply cannot seem to grasp them. It's almost like he knows how I really feel about him. And really, I wouldn't put it past him. He's a very perceptive man, and I think that occasionally I can be a little too obvious with my words. My darling sister tells me it's written in my eyes. She obviously has no idea what she's talking about, however, because she also claims that I'm in love with him. 

I am, by the way. Well, I think I am anyway, but I'll probably deny it to my grave. 

Part of me wants to deny it, the rational, sane part of me. It wants to claim that it's not love, because I'm not petrified of it. Another part of me thinks that it would be alright to just shout it from the rooftops. It seems that everyone except the two of us received the memo anyway. The majority of me though is too afraid of losing to step into the game. 

Sonny is my best friend, he's the one person that has ever been able to understand me. He listens to me, respects me, trusts me, and he cares about me. Believe me when I say that any emotion other than dislike or simple indifference toward him was more than I ever intended to have. It just seemed to happen. One day he's wooing me into being his lawyer, the next I'm spilling my heart, mind and thoughts to him. Then, out of nowhere, I wake up and realize that he's the best friend I've ever had. 

And after that it only gets more complicated. As if that's possible. 

It just came completely out of the blue sky. One day he's Sonny, my best friend, my confidant, the one man that doesn't set off alarm bells when we get close, the person that knows me, the person that I can always turn to. I would swear that when I went to bed, he was the one man that I thought there was a marginal chance I needed in my life. Then, I wake up the next morning, from a rather disturbing dream, to find that he's the one man I can not only imagine spending my life with, he's also the one man I can't imagine spending it without. 

Just like that, like magic, the dimple start effecting me. They never did before, although a casual observer would think that the dimples are what drew me in to begin with. I started to understand what it was that Carly saw in him. Not that I'll ever understand what he saw in her, of course. But it just seemed like all of a sudden, I could see why she put up with the heartache of loving the unlovable, untouchable Sonny Corinthos. 

Not that Sonny Corinthos is actually untouchable. Oh, he talks a good game, but this man feels things more deeply than any other person I've ever encountered. Things that most people think he brushes off without a second thought can cut him to the core. Words the mean nothing to others, words that others think would mean nothing to him, can be words that he treasures with all of his heart. I think we've already established that unlovable doesn't describe him correctly at all. 

He's still watching me, and not even bothering to pretend that he isn't. I can feel his eyes on me, burning my skin as if he'd just reached over and touched me. Hesitantly, I glance over and we lock eyes. I'm sure, in that moment, that Kristina is at her usual place at the top of the stairs watching giddily and waiting with baited breath for one of us to make our move. Neither of us will though. And the day she accepts that will be the day that Dara Jensen beats me in court. 

It's a day that is never going to come. 

This… _thing_, for lack of a better word, between Sonny and I is complicated. There's an underlying attraction that neither of us have ever tried to deny while refusing to admit to. It's a delicate balance between us, and the attraction is going to stay underlying. Neither of us will ever act on it. It doesn't matter how many dreams I may have about this man, I know that I'll never actually kiss him. 

Why, you ask? It's simple really. We're completely wrong for each other. 

We're complete opposites. And please don't say opposites attract. My darling baby sister has already tried that. There are just far too many differences between Sonny and I for any hint of a romance to actually stand a chance of lasting between us. Not the least of which is that I'm a lawyer – his lawyer, no less – and he is an underworld crime lord. 

I very rarely agree with Sonny, though I do admit that he's probably the best friend I've ever had in my life. We both have control issues. And I _won't_ confess to sort of liking the idea of letting someone else take control every now and then. He grew up in Brooklyn, and I grew up on an island in Greece. He has a code that he lives by that is filled with double standards and expectations so high that no one should dare to think they could ever live up to them. And I have actual morals that I stand by _most _of the time. 

I'll admit that I do have an inkling of respect for my, obviously, favorite client. I do not, however respect the code that he lives by. He's a criminal, wanted by the PCPD and the FBI alike. He's the head of the local mob, for crying out loud! And I'm his attorney. And I'd say that I was in love with him but love usually comes with a sinking feeling for me and I don't have that. 

We're a lot alike too, sometimes. Though no one but the two of us will ever understand just how. We stick by what we believe in, and luckily, we happen to believe in each other most of the time. We both avoid expression our real emotions whenever possible. Both of us have been burned and jaded by life in general. He had an abusive stepfather and I had an abusive stepmother. Sonny and I are the both survivors. And no one can ever fully grasp how that bonds us. 

He's seen my scars. Not the physical ones that I keep hidden either by clothing or makeup, but the emotional ones that no one else has ever seen. Ned, Jax, even Stefan have been blind to these scars, but Sonny sees them and understands them. I've seen the battle wounds that he wears with an odd sense of shame, and I'm fairly certain that neither of the great loves of his life have seen them in the focus that he put them in for me. 

Our childhoods marked us. In ways that I've never had someone understand before. I'm a woman that is strong, independent, and a one time pin-up girl. I've made a life and a name for myself – Eddie's Angel aside. But part of me is always going to hear Helena's voice calling me _mouse_ when I look into the mirror. Part of me is always going to be just a little afraid of the dark and being alone, no matter how safe it may be. A part of me will be insecure, scared, lonely, and longing for my mother until the day that I take my last breath. 

Sonny knows that. He sees that, and oddly enough I've never felt the urge to shield it from his gaze with my very convincing capable attorney act. I couldn't put my finger on why at first, but eventually I understood. Sonny _is_ that. His past and life may have differed from mine in a lot of ways, he may not have the exact same fears and insecurities, but when it's all said and done Sonny is me. He's who I would have been had I been forced to endure the heartache of my early life alone. He's got scars of his own, he's probably cried into his pillow too may nights to count, hoping to stifle the sound of his sobs the same as me. 

I've wondered more than once if he was afraid of the dark too, but I wouldn't dare to ask. 

I manage to hold his gaze a moment longer before I can feel the heat of embarrassment rising in my face. I'm sure that I could ask Kristina how long we've been staring at each other, but there's really no other way for me to ever know. I don't even know why I'm blushing, it isn't as if I was the only one staring. Even now, I can still feel his eyes upon me. I can almost hear his smile forming. 

This fear that I have of love and commitment and having real emotions has never tried to stop me from going forward with this _thing_ with Sonny. The one attraction that, amazingly enough, didn't ruin anything. What's holding us back isn't even us. I think that if we weren't both hiding from what we feel then we'd have to admit that even as wrong as we both are for each other, we're ten times more right. What's holding us back is something different. 

It's another fear that I have. I newer, deeper fear. The fear of losing the best friend I ever had and the one man that means everything to me. 

I meet his eyes again and he's still smiling, his eyes shining with amusement, respect, love and that same light I've seen countless times before. "You're amazing, Alexis," he whispers. 

The blush is back, I can actually feel my face heating as I return his smile. "We're amazing," I answer, knowing that he caught my hidden meaning as well as I caught his. 

As safe as alone is, I can't lose him. 

I wish I knew what to do about this fear. 


End file.
